Getting Clean
by DiamondTopaz
Summary: Jesse and Jane share an intimate moment in the shower before departing for New Zealand. Obviously a smutfic. Takes place between Chapters 1 and 2 of Deja Vu, but works as an AU standalone.


_(Recommended music: "A Land Down Under" by Men At Work. "Play With Me," by The Thompson Twins.)_

**Getting Clean**

They'd flushed their drugs and slipped into an uneasy sleep, resolving that first thing in the morning they would be on their way to ABQ International Airport to buy one-way tickets to New Zealand. They were well on their way…but Jesse was about to find withdrawal could make for some pretty horrific dreams.

In his sleep, he saw Jane lying beside him. Only, something was wrong. She was gagging, convulsing and struggling for breath. All the while he could see it happening before him, but something prevented him from moving to save her. He was left to watch in terror, unable to even shout her name for a lethargic force weighing down his tongue. Dread flooded his senses as she gradually laid still, the color drained from her face, the rise and fall ceasing from her chest. At the broken door across the room, a white light glared in through the taped-up cardboard.

He opened his eyes the next morning to a sick stomach and heavy thumping against his rib cage. Jane's arms were wrapped around him, her body positioned against his back. Before allowing the relief to sink in that what he'd just saw was only a nightmare, he flipped over to face her.

"Jane," he whispered urgently, nudging her shoulder. "Wake up."

She mumbled in protest. "What? What's wrong?" she slurred, half-asleep.

The relief washed over him so fast it left his fingertips stinging. "Nothing. Everything's okay," he replied, brushing her hair behind her ear and stroking her cheek.

She rubbed her eyes, then lifted her head to see the time. "It's 7 in the morning, Jesse…" she groaned irritably.

"Sorry. I just thought, y'know, maybe we should get ready to go," he gave as an excuse. "New Zealand counts as 'down under,' right? It's gotta be, like, a thousand miles away. It'll be a long trip."

"It's more than a thousand. But you're right—I haven't even started packing," she complied. She pulled herself out from under the warm covers and was almost immediately assaulted by the cold, early morning air filtering in through the hole in the back door. Wearing one of his T-shirts and little underneath, she wrapped her arms around herself then dragged her left leg up the inside of her right, and vise-versa. Venturing over to inspect the door, she saw that a corner of the duct tape affixing the cardboard had come loose, which she promptly pressed back down.

"I don't envy whoever has to replace this door." She grinned through chattering teeth.

"Word to that," Jesse agreed. Now out of bed, he strode to the doorway to pull her into his arms and stop her shivering.

She sighed contentedly and just relaxed against his shoulder, soaking in the warmth of him.

He kissed her cheek. "Here you go, take a blanket." He pulled the cover off the bed and draped it over her, cocooning even her head. She couldn't help but smile, pushing the edge of the comforter down like the drawn back hood on a robe. His attempts at chivalry were always sweet, if somewhat misguided half the time. "How 'bout you go get your stuff, then come back and meet me when you're all packed?" he suggested.

She nodded, smirking amusedly. "Sounds good."

A grateful kiss fell on her lips. She couldn't help noticing Jesse was even more affectionate than usual this morning, for some reason. It must be anticipation for the proverbial "ride off into the sunset" awaiting them today.

"See you soon?" he inquired with a hint of expectancy in this voice, as if he needed confirmation of this. When she nodded, he finally relinquished her and stepped over the brown duffle back, heading into the hallway towards the bathroom. "I'm just gonna get a shower real quick, then."

After the bathroom door closed behind Jesse, Jane dropped the comforter and stepped over to the bag in the middle of the floor, just to make sure its contents were as real as she remembered from last night. Sure enough, it was all there: $480 thousand, in cash, very much not the figment of a narcotic-induced fantasy.

The telltale jitters of withdrawal had already begun to set in. But along with them came a rush of excitement. In only a few fleeting hours, they'd be on a plane, the remains of this oppressive life miles below them as they soared away to freedom. It was an exhilarating thought…made even more so when she realized they were truly doing this on _their _terms. No one—not her father, not Jesse's old partner—could tell them what to do or how to live. They were free.

Inside the bathroom, she heard the shower running. An inviting, tawny light seeped under the door. Her blood raced as an idea crept in amongst her thoughts. One last hit may have been out of the question…but if she had anything to say about it, she was still starting this new, liberating venture off strong and getting her high another way. She gripped the doorknob.

The shower curtain began to slowly drag open. Jesse started, then turned to see Jane, head upon her shoulder while extending an arm against the wall, clutching the furled curtain. Her hand rested against a protruded hip. Her knee bent slightly as her leg rocked from side to side suggestively on the ball of one foot.

She winked and stepped into the tub, paying no mind to the water streaming onto the floor or her borrowed shirt getting drenched.

"Jane…wow." His hands instinctively gravitated towards her hips. "Are you sure we should?" he asked with a pause. "I mean, now?"

"I won't need very long," she assured him, fingernails tracing lightly up and down his chest.

"But, our flight…what if we…?" He was cut off by a kiss. Her tongue vied for entry to his mouth, which he granted with minimal nibbling from his teeth and slow, deliberate brushes from his own tongue.

"It can wait. There will always be another plane," she insisted after releasing him from the kiss. To drive the point home, she reclosed the shower curtain. Hot water continued to rain down on them. Jane's shirt was soon completely soaked through, sticking to her body and betraying every curve of her.

Jesse didn't appear to need any further convincing. He reached under the bottom of the wet shirt to pull her hips toward him. When he found she still had her panties on, he slipped a few fingers underneath and dragged them down her legs, allowing them to roll up on themselves as he felt the damp skin of her thighs gliding beneath his palms. The panties dropped to the bath mat, and Jane kicked them aside.

"You're perfect," Jesse murmured.

"Shut up," Jane retorted playfully, recalling their discussion about perfection outside the museum in Santa Fe. She gave an approving "Mmm," as he started to work his hands on parts of her newly made accessible to him. A tremor ran up her spine from the rubbing sensation that started at her hips and closed in steadily on her inner thighs. Her senses longed for it to go higher.

"Wait," she breathed, both to him and herself. This feeling had to be made to last. In a graceful motion, she took hold of the bottom of the shirt and peeled it off over her head, to be hung sopping on the side of the tub. Now as naked as he was, she took a bottle of green Axe shower gel from the wire basket hanging from the shower nozzle. "I've always wanted to do this with you," she explained, holding the gel up.

"And just what's _that _supposed to mean?" He laughed once and took a whiff of his own armpit in jest.

She snickered. "Nothing like that. Trust me—I know you'll like it."

A shrug. "Okay, then, if that's what you want."

She squeezed a handful of the viscous gel into her hand and worked it into lather, then proceeded to spread it on his neck, and shoulders. She brought his chest to hers and reached around to move on to his back. Her hands clenched and released in circles across his body, simultaneously bathing and massaging.

Eyes closed, he pressed his forehead to hers and lost his fingers in her dripping hair. He inhaled deeply then gave a long, drawn-out exhale just like when he smoked Blue Sky. "That feels really good," he affirmed.

"Told ya." She gave his lower lip a playful nibble. One finished with his back, she cupped her hands to the falling water and splashed away the lather, leaning down to seal her handiwork with a soft line of kisses, while he flexed his fingers in her hair.

She repeated the lather and rinse process with his front. This time, after rinsing, she craned down to pinch a freshly cleansed spot on his chest between her teeth.

He gave a brisk gasp at first, then urged her on with a plea of "Keep doing that," while still stroking her hair. She kept at it, reassured that he was enjoying the Jane Margolis Private Home Spa Experience and would definitely return the favor as soon as she called on him to do so. Her teeth and tongue worked simultaneously to produce a reddish mark on his skin, which she imagined would inevitably turn up in a photo proudly set as his phone's wallpaper later.

With another batch of lather waiting, she brought her hand down just below hip level to one last region in need of a good scrub.

At her delicate touch, a familiar rapid, broken breathing commenced from his lungs. It was accentuated by a sharp sucking of air between the teeth as she finished with a warm rinse. "Oh…Jane…shit," he groaned. He freed his hands from his girl's hair, only to push down lightly on the top of her head in an unspoken request.

She pulled up. "Nope. Not yet. It's your turn to wash me." She handed him the gel bottle.

"But this is a guy's shower gel," he objected.

"I don't care. Just do like I did."

Jesse accepted the bottle and tried to replicate the treatment Jane had just given him. First, the shoulders and back. He had a clumsy time of it, and her hair kept getting in the way, but she coaxed him on with moans of "That's good, baby," and "I like that."

He found the chore a lot more appealing when he got to the front. He spread the lather amply over her supple curves, working it more and more with dexterous hands until it neared the consistency of paste.

"You know, they're clean enough; you can rinse now," she joked after he'd focused on this task a little too long.

"Just wanted to be sure," he replied innocently. He watched with keen interest as the water spilled down, washing away the soap and leaving droplets on his partner's flawlessly smooth form. He softly kneaded her curves and deposited a light kiss between them. His hands traced their way down the sides of her slender belly—his thumb grazing her navel—to reclaim her hips. At the same time his mouth etched a path along her chest towards the left tip.

She began to pant involuntarily as his mouth met its destination. Her panting became louder and punctuated by vocal exclamations after his hands arrived at her hips, only to move on to her inner thighs and from there, at last, upward. She braced herself by grabbing the end of the shower curtain rod where it met the wall, and wrapping her other arm around his neck. She found a steady balance by propping one foot on the discarded shirt draped over the side of the tub to avoid slipping. Her legs parted a little more from this, welcoming him to advance into her with one finger.

Her interior muscles flickered at his fingertip playing inside her, readying her. At the same time, her heart pounded just beneath the caress of his tongue, lips and teeth. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks since their first time together, but damn Jesse learned fast. Already he knew every move that turned her on, every button of her body to push that sent her over the edge, and he executed every one with polished, tantric skill.

The water barraged his back as he held her against the wall opposite the shower head. His free hand supported the small of her back. A second finger joined the first inside her, and both worked together in a "come hither" stroking motion. Meanwhile his thumb tip flirted with her sensitive outside spot. She managed to huff out "Oh, God!" in between short, frantic breaths.

To sense Jane's pleasure in every gasp, cry and bodily twitch was its own reward. But, Jesse could tell, now she wanted him to fulfill the promises his hands were making, and he was only too anxious to oblige. He turned his attention from her chest to the base of her neck, then up to her lips where he obtained a quick taste of her ripened mouth. After taking her lower lip between his teeth for a second, he drew back and looked the only light of his life in the eyes.

"Now?" he whispered.

A fervent nod. "Now!" she begged.

His fingers slowed their labor to a halt, then withdrew from her with a parting run down her inner thigh. He secured his hand along with the first around her waist and, inching up just a little, he claimed her.

She bit her lip and gasped upon entry, one hand wrenching at the curtain rod and the other clinging to his shoulder. He started slow, letting her adjust to his presence in her and keeping her from slipping. The hot depth of her electrified his veins. He continually pushed forward, pulled back, and pushed forward again, urged on by the moans of his name rising from her throat.

"You feel so fucking amazing," he told her in a carnal growl.

"Jesse…!" she responded in a heave. "Don't…stop…!"

He began to push harder, further. Before long, her hips rocked forward to meet him in the middle of every thrust. She clenched around him with every re-entry, making his insertion even tighter and further boosting his pleasure. Neither of them could tell the water falling on them from the sweat of the other's brow.

His breathing intensified. This was so right. Everything about this was exactly as it should be. She was here. She was alive. She was breathing—panting as hard as her ribcage would allow—and moaning his name again and again. Here in this apartment she was all his, and soon, more than a thousand miles away in the land down under, she'd be his forever.

"Jane…" He plunged his face into his soul mate's shoulder, teeth gritted. "Jane, I lo—"

"Shh…" her fingers found their way over his mouth. She guided him up into a kiss, then joined eyes with him. She was approaching the breaking point—the threshold where she couldn't endure the ecstasy any longer. Both her legs locked around his waist in anticipation.

He gave her thighs a caress around him, then refastened his hands around her waist, pulling her in tighter and driving himself into her as deep as he could go.

Her thighs writhed into his sides. Her mouth froze open in an impending scream, and her head tilted back.

He let himself slip over into his release. A white light flashed over them both like an explosion. All at once, everything burst.

The last echoing note of her scream faded to silence. She let go of the curtain rod and searched for her footing on the shower mat with unsure legs. He held onto her a little longer, letting the water continue to flow down their bodies. Their breathing eventually slowed.

Jane reached behind Jesse to turn the shower off. Droplets fell from their hair, until he pulled away to draw back the shower curtain and step out. The entire bathroom was thick with a heavy fog, the mirror obscured with mist.

"Well, maybe I needed longer than I thought," Jane admitted, stepping out after him.

"Yo, no complaints here, babe," Jesse grinned. He retrieved a towel from a rack. He draped it first on her, just like the bed cover, and she guided the edges around him in a hug.

They stood like that for a few moments, just indulging in each other.

"I love you, Jane," Jesse avowed.

She pushed the towel back from her head, her lips parted slightly, and he was unable to resist stealing one more kiss from her.

After he broke it, she replied, "I think this is gonna be a hell of a trip."

)***(

_Disclaimer: Everyone breaks bad now and again, so feel free to try this at home. But if you do, be smarter than Jesse and Jane. Use protection! Especially if you or your partner may have previously engaged the services of a crackwhore named Wendy in a rundown motel affectionately dubbed The Crystal Palace. Heisenburg says!_


End file.
